Soft Eyes, Fierce Heart
by Sedentary Wordsmith
Summary: A mother's last request to her son before her death at his hands.


Just a quick note before we get started here…Sorry for the crapiness of this piece. It's not up to par with the rest of my writing, but keep in mind that I wrote this late at night (or, early in the morning, actually) while on (legal!) painkillers. Also, I just came up with the idea that morning and wrote it that night, so I didn't have as much time as I usually take to polish the plot. But I wanted it to be done in time for Mother's Day. And sorry for the crappy title. I couldn't think of anything else. You really don't want to know what I had originally.

So, here's to strong mothers everywhere. May your children not grow up to be Itachi.

(Oh, and in case you didn't know, Mikoto is Sasuke's mother, and Fugaku is his father.)

Soft Eyes, Fierce Heart

Mikoto wrung her hands nervously in her apron as the sounds outside came again. She took a few hurried steps toward the door, hesitated a moment, then retreated just as quickly. This cycle continued every few moments as the sounds reached her ears.

Screams of terror. Shouts of attack. Cries of pain and defeat.

They had started just at sunset. There was one, short, cry of alarm, quickly cut off. Fugaku and Mikoto had mostly ignored it at first—it was, after all, just one distant shout of surprise—but it was soon followed by more. Then screaming joined in, with a few battle cries. That was when they realized there was something very wrong.

An attack? But who would be stupid enough to attack the Uchiha, the most powerful clan in all of Konoha? More importantly, how had an army large enough to do so sneaked inside the guarded village unnoticed?

Fugaku had quickly gathered his ninja equipment and was about to rush out the door when it opened on its own from the other side. There stood several members of the police squad, come to alert him. They didn't know much—just that there was an attack and many had already been killed and every shinobi was being called to fight.

Fugaku ordered his wife to stay inside and turned to run, but before he could disappear, Mikoto had grabbed him by the arm and implored him, "Find Itachi and Sasuke. Make sure they are safe." He nodded curtly in understanding and took off. Mikoto retreated inside the house, left by herself to worry as the cries and screams sounded nearer and nearer.

She was not worried for Fugaku and Itachi, not much—they were excellent shinobi, the best in the village, well capable of taking care of themselves. No, it was little Sasuke who caused the mother's heart to tremble, her fingers to twist into her apron. He was so young, so very, very small, had only just entered the Academy, was not even yet a Genin. And she had no idea in the world where he was, during this attack on their clan. Shuriken practice. Still there? She could only pray he was safe, far away, unaware, even, of what was happening here.

It was past dark now and the moon had already risen, and still the cries continued. Where was Sasuke? Had he been caught in the fight on the way home? Mikoto's heart lurched at the thought. No, she would trust in Fugaku and Itachi. They would find him and protect themselves and him.

The screams and sounds of battle continued advancing in her direction at a steady, alarming pace. She could smell the blood on the wind. Where was the rest of Konoha? Surely they had heard of the battle by now and sent reinforcements? So why was the enemy still advancing?

As the sounds drew nearer, they also grew less. Mikoto tried not to think of what this signified. The enemy was not retreating, so that could only mean…the size of the resistance was dwindling.

Eventually, the sounds ceased altogether. There were no more charges, no more screams of pain and death. The moon rode high in the sky, pouring in through the large window and illuminating the pale woman standing still in the center of the room. The silence was heavy and more threatening than the screams had been. The air weighed oppressively with the stench of fresh blood. Mikoto held her breath.

The soft sound of the room's door scraping open was sudden and loud in the stillness, and she gasped and stepped back. The intruding figure stepped into the light of the moon, and Mikoto breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She quickly stepped forward again and wrapped her arms around him in a protective embrace, uncaring that he was covered in blood and now she was, too. "Itachi. I was so worried. Where are your father and brother?"

Itachi did not answer, staring down at the woman who gave birth to him. He merely raised his blood-covered katana, and looked at her with his blood-colored eyes, and she knew. Never before had anything he'd done been so startlingly clear to her. She just could not understand _why_. She did not ask.

Slowly, she backed away from him, from her own first-born child, into the center of the room. The moonlight fell on her and turned her black hair silver. "Have you killed everyone?" she asked in an even tone. But inside, her mother's heart was breaking. There was no fear for herself. No instinct of self-preservation. There was only the need to protect her younger remaining child. And this, this feeling of…

"Not yet," he answered in an evenly matched tone, adjusting the sword in his hand. It was a promise. She had a different one in mind.

"Promise me one thing," she said, closing her eyes briefly. There was to be no begging for her life, no screaming in fright, no shouts of denial or accusations of the monster her own child had become. No questions why. Just one simple request.

Itachi lowered his sword, just slightly, as a sign for her to continue.

"Do not kill Sasuke. Promise me you will not hurt your little brother!" She opened her eyes, and they were filled with a desperate determination. The need to protect her offspring, at the risk of her own life.

Itachi considered the request for only a moment. Mikoto had always favored Sasuke over him, and that was always obvious to Itachi. But he hadn't minded, as most children would. He did not want any more attention. No more expectations of him from a clan too pathetic to do anything for themselves. Their father favored Itachi, so it was only natural that their mother, the balance of the family, should favor Sasuke.

But it was when she comforted Sasuke after he was ignored by his brother or neglected by his father, when she cleaned his wounds he received from training by himself, when she cheered him up when he felt lonely, that Itachi resented his mother. Bonds were what weakened people and hid their true potential. How was he to measure the extent of Sasuke's capabilities if the younger were weakened by bonds? The bonds must be broken.

"He is weak," Itachi said in response to her plea. "He is not even worth killing."

Mikoto let a ghost of a smile pass over her lips as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Itachi again raised his katana in preparation to strike.

Mikoto, however, was not weak. She did not flinch away from one child as she begged for the other's life. She did not cower in fear. She was not afraid of her own death. Her last thought was only of protecting her child. And…

"I'm sorry." Soft black eyes met soulless red—_when had they lost their soul?_—in a gaze full of regret. _Sorry for failing you. Sorry for not showing you more love and understanding. Sorry for failing to protect_ you

No, his mother was anything but weak. She was worth killing. She was strong.

End

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I promise I won't kill you. XD


End file.
